The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sinful Revenge

by Wesley Bracken

Chapter 3 ~ Slothful Seduction

Tuesday

Rod came back downstairs, the ingredients added to Evan’s bag and added it to the cauldron, then went back to stirring. Meanwhile, Micah was hunting around the shelves looking for something. “What are you looking for Micah?” Rod asked.

In response, Micah tossed him Peter’s bag. Rod read what the guy had written: “I want Samuel Haverick to lose all interest in hygiene and have his IQ drop to 80.”

“So what are you trying to do?” Rod asked, looking for clarification.

Micah stood up and sighed, “I’m not really sure. Nothing here seems appropriate for what I have in mind.” He snapped his fingers, “Of course. Rod, go get one of your dirty jockstraps.”

“Am I going to get it back?” he asked, “I don’t have very many.”

“I’ll buy you some more personally. Now hurry. I’d like to get to bed sometime soon. I promised those guys that their spell would be done by Thursday. I certainly wouldn’t want them to be disappointed.”

Rod rolled his eyes, and headed upstairs. As a final thought, Micah tossed some urea in Peter’s bag as well. “That should be dirty enough for him.” he thought, and then turned back to the remaining bags.

Wednesday

Running his eyes down the list, Peter checked the test scores one last time for his class in Differential Equations, and saw what he expected. He had the second highest score with a 93, and the highest score was a 98, which of course belonged to Samuel. Peter sighed, and then took off for the student union building. Daniel needed someone to buy him a few meals because his meal plan had run out, and he couldn’t afford to eat until he got paid on Friday.

He kept trying to tell himself that he shouldn’t be dissatisfied with a 93. The next highest score was a 77, but he tried so hard to beat Samuel, but nothing ever came of his efforts. It wouldn’t have hurt so bad if Samuel hadn’t been overshadowing him since Middle School. They were both from Havensburg, and decided to go to HU, and stay with their parents, and as such they had known each other for a long time. They had even been friends back in middle school, the two smartest kids in their grade. But when Samuel went out for football, suddenly he wasn’t interested in being Peter’s friend anymore. He also wasn’t very interested in academic excellence. He stopped studying for his classes and took reasonably hard classes, most of them with Peter. But the worst part was that no amount of slacking seemed to dent his 4.0 GPA. The greatest embarrassment for Peter was being beaten out for valedictorian by Samuel by a narrow distance.

Even worse was Samuel’s laziness in other departments. He was never that interested in being presentable-he would let his hair grow out for months in order to avoid getting it cut, and sometimes you could smell him across the classroom. He showed up for graduation drunk, and made a fool of himself during his speech, but where Peter would have been mortified, Samuel just laughed and went out for more parties. Nothing mattered to him except instant gratification. Peter kept hoping he would get his comeuppance in college, but he had excelled as always, and fell right in with the football crowd, while Peter struggled just to find a group of outcasts and misfits that would take him in. Of course, he had never been very social, and his tendency towards obsessive neatness tended to weird people out, but everyone had their quirks. But he couldn’t help but hate Samuel for hanging him out to dry and turning his back on his potential. It wasn’t his higher grades that frustrated him, but the fact that Samuel did it without any effort or caring. It was a waste of his potential, and Peter wanted to see him lose everything he had, but didn’t care about at all. It was only just.

Daniel was waiting outside the student union building, shivering in the cold. Peter wished he would just take one of Evan’s old coats or something; it was going to get cold soon and his little threadbare sweatshirt didn’t look like it would last another year. But ever since his parents had disowned him after coming out of the closet, he had been determined to make it on his own. Even taking meals from others left him in a sour mood. Peter waved to him, and the went inside, picked out some food, and then went to go eat. Peter tried to start several conversations, but Daniel would just nod and look off to some faraway place.

“Are you ok? You seem down?” he finally asked after a silent moment.

“Yeah, I’m alright...I just got another email from my parents. They want me to go to this...center. They say it can fix me.” He squeezed his fist hard enough to make his knuckles pop, “Cause, you know, something’s broken, and only through the power of Christ can I be repaired.”

“Why don’t you just get a new address?”

Daniel sighed and relaxed his hand, “I really should, but...you know. I just keep hoping they’ll change their minds. I’m just not ready to turn my backs on them yet.”

Peter looked at his watch, and say it was a little past four. “Hey, we should probably go meet the guys over at the stadium. Maybe imagining the surprise those jocks are in for tomorrow will cheer you up.”

Daniel smirked, and they walked over to the field together. Evan, Orson and Bryce were already there watching the practice, and Peter and Daniel joined them. It wasn’t hard to spot Samuel on the field. His hair was almost down to his shoulders and tangled. He obviously hadn’t shaven in a few days, because he had a layer of thick stubble on his face, another thing Peter couldn’t stand. When he saw him take a sniff of his armpits while they were resetting, Peter felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He didn’t want to be anywhere near this place anymore. Quickly he stood up and took off for his room, indulging himself with a nice long shower. After studying for his German class the next day, he went to bed, anxiously imagining how different things would be for Samuel when he woke up.

Thursday

Peter woke up to a raging headache and an odd rumbling noise. His first thought was that he should be in his dorm room at school, but that didn’t make any sense. He was 28, and had never gone to college. He might have been smart enough, but it just wasn’t what he wanted to do. He tried to move his hands and legs, but found that he couldn’t. Opening his eyes, he saw he was in a dark place, with two windows at either end. It dawned on him that he was in a truck bed with a canopy, hogtied and gagged. Thinking back, the last thing he remembered with any real clarity was the fight he’d had with his parents on Wednesday. They’d found his stash of ecstasy in his room, and tossed him out on the street. Its not like he used it all the time, it was just for parties, but they didn’t understand. They’d never understood him. After they had taken his keys and thrown him out, he had decided to get out of town. There wasn’t anything left for him anyway. So he walked around that night looking for a car he could take. He set his eyes on an old pickup. It wasn’t in very good shape, but it would work, and he could get the ignition taken out pretty easily. He set about picking the lock, and that was the last thing he remembered.

Looking out the back window, he saw that if it wasn’t morning yet it was close to dawn. It was hard to make out, but the truck was definitely out of the city, and traveling down a windy road. He struggled for a few minutes until he was sure he couldn’t get out, and then sat there, increasingly nervous. He figured that the owner of the pickup had knocked him out, but he figured a normal person would just take him to the police. This was a whole lot worse, and it filled him with unease. After the sun had fully risen, the vibration of the truck increased, and Peter could hear gravel and dirt crunching under the tires. After another lengthy period of time, his whole body now sore from his bonds and rolling around in the back, the truck finally came to a stop.

After a moment of silence, he heard the door of the cab open and shut, and heavy footsteps walk away. A few minutes later, they came back, and the back of the cab opened. It was the smell that hit Peter first; the man stank like he hadn’t bathed in months. The man was dressed in overalls without a shirt, and his whole body looked like it was caked with dirt, grease and grime. While his head and beard were shaved, both were covered in a few days of stubble. The man leered at him, his smile missing one of its front teeth, and then yanked Peter out of the truck. He tried to fight back, but the man was heavily muscled even if it was covered in a thick layer of fat, and easily hauled Peter over to a clearing. Peter looked around and saw that he was in the middle of a field, a trailer off to one side with a few pieces of furniture scattered around it. There was no one else around though, and his hopes of rescue were dashed, but he struggled anyway.

The man slapped him across the face and said, “If you don’t calm down boy I’m gonna cut off your balls and make you calm.”

Given that the man had kidnapped and carted him out to the middle of nowhere, Peter decided to take the threat seriously and stopped fighting. The man let go of him and stood up.

“That’s better,” he said, “Given the circumstances, I don’t think you should be complaining much. Trying to steal my truck...if my Pa had caught anyone stealing his truck he would have killed his with him shotgun. I could do the same to you if I wanted. You deserve it, trying to take my property.”

Peter started shaking, vowing that if God let him get away from this madman redneck, he would never do drugs or steal a car again.

“But you’re here, and since I could take your life if I wanted, I might as well use it for my pleasure. How does that sound boy? I’ve been needing a new pig around here.”

Peter didn’t really understand what the man meant, but almost anything was better than death in the middle of nowhere.

The man continued, “Now, first of all I need to get you all dressed up, and to do that I’m gonna have to untie you, so I figure we might start by setting a few ground rules.” He picked Peter up and showed him the surrounding area, “The first thing is that I like my privacy. As you can see, I live out here alone. The nearest neighbor is probably fifteen or twenty miles away, and not even a little girl can scream loud enough for them to hear, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. They know better than to mess around in my business and I stay out of theirs. So no one is gonna be rescuing you, got it?”

Peter felt his heart sink, and nodded.

“Second, if I tell you to do something, you can do two things. One, you can do it. Two, you can not do it, get beaten on, and then do it. The first one is easier, the second is more fun for me. Your choice.”

Peter gulped and nodded again.

“Third, I am bigger, stronger and faster than you. If ya’ll try to run, I will catch you, and the first thing I’m gonna do after I catch ya is cut your balls off. If you want to stay a pig and not become a sow, I suggest you cooperate.”

Peter nodded again, and the man dropped him.

“Lastly, my name is Samuel G. Haverick, but you will never call me that. You will call me only Sir or Master, and then, only if I give you permission to speak. If you do speak out of turn, you’re likely ta lose a tooth or three. Your name is Pig. Don’t even bother telling me what your previous name is. That life is over, got it?”

Peter nodded, but figured he would still make a break for it when the man untied him. He didn’t want to know what this fatass redneck had planned for him. Sam came over then brought over a pile of miscellaneous equipment and dropped it next to Peter. The first thing he pulled out was a piece of thick chain that he put around Peter’s neck and padlocked into a makeshift collar. It wasn’t too tight, but it was heavy and he knew he wouldn’t be able to squeeze his head through it. Then Sam took a heavy iron ball with a chain attached like had been used in old prison chain gangs and fastened that to his collar with a locking carabineer. The chain was long enough that Peter could crouch and crawl, but much too short to stand unless he carried the ball in his hands.

“This is to keep my new piggy on the ground. For the first few weeks I’m sure you’ll want to stand up, but that ain’t the proper place for a pig.”

Peter let out a little squeak when the man said the word weeks. He hadn’t imagined that the man would actually keep him here. What had he gotten himself into?

Next the man untied Peter’s hands. As soon as they were free, Peter tried to punch him as hard as he could, but Sam deflected the blow, “Now I know you’re scared boy, but you brought this upon yourself. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.” Peter took another swing at him, and Sam punched him in the gut hard enough to knock all the air out of Peter’s lungs, “I warned you boy.”

While he was stunned and trying to get his breath back, Sam latched two leather fist mitts onto Peter’s hands. “These might come off occasionally to let your hands air out, but pretty soon your fingers will be so numb you’ll forget you ever had opposable thumbs.”

With that newest humiliation over with, Peter resigned himself to the rest. Even if he could overpower Sam, he would be stuck padlocked to a ball and chain that he couldn’t haul around with him for twenty miles without his fingers. He was stuck there for the time being. Sam took the rest of the ropes off of Peter, and then cut his clothes off. After he was naked, Sam completed the ensemble with two leather bags over Peter’s feet and two leather knee guards. As a final addition, he placed a ball gag in Peter’s mouth, commenting that it would help curb his want to talk.

When he was finished, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. Peter looked at himself and blushed with humiliation. Not only was he completely powerless, but he was at the mercy of a dirty hick and what ever he wanted. It was then that Peter noticed Sam was rubbing his hardon through his overalls, leering at him. He tried to back away, but the ball hindered his movement more than he expected.

“I think it’s time I broke my new piggy in,” Sam said as he grabbed the ball and started hauling it around the back of the trailer, Peter following him as fast as he could crawl, grateful for the leather shielding him from the rocky ground. Around there, in the morning shade, Peter saw that there was a fenced in depression in the ground. Sam opened the gate and hauled him in. Peter cringed away from the large mud puddle, but Sam came around and pushed him in further, and then came up behind him, his large, uncut dick poking out of the front of his overalls. “Yeah, I think you’re going to make a fine pig, but let’s test that ass of yours. It looks like a great fuck,” Sam said as he advanced on Peter who tried to get away but couldn’t crawl fast enough. Sam grabbed his hips and started running his dick between Peter’s cheeks. “Feel that Pig?” he said as Peter fought, “This is the dick that’s going to break you, and break you good.” With a slow push, Sam rammed his dick into Peter’s ass, making his yell in pain. He tried to pull his ass away, but Sam pulled him back until he was fully impaled on his dick. He started to fuck him doggie style, Peter no longer struggling against the inevitable. When Sam noticed he had stopped fighting, he started slowly stroking Peter’s dick in time with his thrusts. Peter couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan, and Sam laughed. “I never said this didn’t have to be pleasurable for you Pig. The more you cooperate, the better it’ll be, trust me. In a few weeks, you’ll be begging for this I bet you.”

At the mention of his prolonged sentence, Peter started to struggle again, but Sam grabbed onto his nipples and gave them a savage tug, making Peter cry out in pain. “I see I got me a feisty one,” Sam said as he began thrusting faster, “I always like breaking the feisty ones.” He scooped up a handful of mud and spread it on Pig’s back, who yelped at the sudden chill. “Get used to it, you’re going to be living in it,” Sam said as he spread some more on, rubbing it into Peter’s hair, “You look even hotter all dirty. Can’t wait to see you in a few weeks, you’ll be one fantastic pig.” At the thought of his new Pig frolicking in the mud, Sam thrust deep into Peter’s ass and let his load loose. Collapsing onto Peter’s back and pushing him deep into the mud, even covering his face. Sam rolled off, and Peter picked himself up, trying to scrape some of the dirt off while Sam laughed.

“Like I said, get used to it, this is your new home. Now, I got some slop for you inside, but it’ll be a little while before it’s ready. Now comes the moment of truth,” he said, and squatted down so he was eye to eye with Peter, “I’m going to leave you alone out here. I already explained the ground rules to you, but you can try to run if you want. But God knows that if you do, I will catch you, and I will cut off your balls. I like sows as much as I like pigs, and I have no problem with turning one into the other, got it?”

Peter nodded, and Sam left the pen and went into the trailer. After scrapping of as much dirt as he could, Peter hefted the iron ball with his fists to test its weight, and the thing was pretty heavy, at least thirty or forty pounds. He could lift it, but running would be a challenge, especially without the use of his hands. He also had no doubts that Sam could catch him, and that if he did, he would become a sow as he so crudely put it. Depressed and humiliated, Peter found the driest spot he could and laid down, looking up at the sky. It was a beautiful fall day, and it was nice in the morning shade. He made shapes with the clouds while waiting for Sam to return with whatever slop he came up with.

About half an hour later, Sam came back out of the trailer hauling two buckets of brown mash. Peter crawled over there, tugging the heavy ball be hind him, and looked at it while Sam undid his ball gag and poured one of the buckets into a trough. It seemed to be a combination of oats and something else he couldn’t quite figure out, and it smelled strongly of alcohol.

“This is what you’re going to be eating from now on Pig,” Sam said, “Go on, give it a try.”

Peter really didn’t want to, but he was starving. He tentatively went to stick his fist into the slop but Sam batted it away. “That’s no way for a pig to eat. Pigs don’t use their hands.”

Humiliated, but not seeing any solution, he lowered his face towards the muck and licked it. The stuff was kind of bitter, but not all that bad. He could definitely taste some sort of alcohol in there, so the stuff would probably get him drunk as well, not that he really minded. At least getting sloshed would take some of the edge off of the situation. Trying to avoid getting any on his face, Peter began lapping at the slop, but he couldn’t get any in his mouth. Sam grabbed the back of his head and shoved him face first into the trough. He coughed and sputtered, and shook his head when Sam let him up, trying to get the food off, but it shuck there pretty good. Sam laughed and said, “You’re a pig now boy, you don’t need manners. In fact the dirtier you are, it just makes me hotter.”

Peter shuddered at the thought, but dug in anyway, his face burning with humiliation as Sam stood over him yelling encouragement. When Peter was eating at a good pace, Sam said, “I’m gonna go get you some water now, and I want that slop gone by the time I get back.” He picked up a half barrel over by the trailer and then headed around the front to where Peter had seen a spigot before. As he kept eating, Peter began to feel a little floaty and even more ravenous, and he started chowing down without any regard for etiquette. Even though it wasn’t all that tasty, it was satisfying, and he’d finished most of it before Sam returned. He sat back, feeling really relaxed all of the sudden, and distantly wondered what had been in that slop. Surely just alcohol wouldn’t affect him like this. But even if he could have figured it out, his brain wasn’t moving as quick as it had, and he just kind of sat there in a stupor.

Sam came back, looked at the trough and laughed. “Well, I guess the slop worked, you’re looking more like a pig already.” He hefted the second bucket up and poured that into the trough as well, and then hopped the fence and joined Peter in the pen. “Now that you’re feeling good, how about we start lesson one?” He stuck his dirty index finger into the trough and put it up to Peter’s mouth. “Suck it off like a good little piggy.”

Peter pulled his head back, but most of the fight had gone out of him. He felt too happy to fight. He reluctantly opened his mouth and allowed Sam to stick his finger in his mouth. It was ok until he’d gotten all the food off, but then Sam made him lick the grime off too, which tasted awful. When it was good and clean, Sam dipped another finger in and Peter sucked that one clean to, but this time, Sam started jacking off his dick too, making Peter moan and suck harder. The faster he went, the faster Sam jacked his cock, and pretty soon he was sucking off Sam’s fingers as he put them up to his mouth without dipping them in the slop first. The next thing he did was put his armpit up to Peter’s mouth, and he started licking on the too, not caring what it was as long as Sam kept a hand on his dick, and as he stroked faster, Peter began to lick into a frenzy, and found himself starting to enjoy the smell and taste of Sam’s raunchy armpit. As he continued to clean up Sam’s grimy body, Sam kept jerking Peter’s cock, keeping him on the cusp of orgasm. Along with the aphrodisiacs, alcohol and euphoric drugs Sam added to the slop, Peter wasn’t going to be complaining for a while, as long as Sam kept him fed and content.

When Peter finished giving his armpits a good cleaning, Sam grabbed the back of his neck, pulled out his cock and stuck it in front of Peter’s mouth, but he balked, and lazily tried to pull away. “Aw come on Pig, you know you want it. All pigs are hungry for their master’s cock. Here, let me make it taste a little better.” He grabbed a handful of the slop and lubed his dick up with it. “Now go on, eat it.”

Peter reluctantly opened his mouth to receive it, and was rewarded with Sam continuing to jack his cock. The slop did make it taste a little better, but it was still foul. He could still taste what must have been the remnants of shit from his ass from when Sam fucked him this morning, and there was a ton cheese and dirt stuck between the head and the foreskin, but as he fell back into his drug addled bliss, he began sucking with vigor, bucking his dick up and down in Sam’s hand, anxious to cum. When the dick erupted in his mouth and he finished swallowing Sam’s load, Sam pushed Peter back into the mud and started sucking of his cock. Peter moaned in ecstasy as he shot the largest load he had ever felt into Sam’s mouth, who then kissed him deeply, feeding Peter his own load.

As Peter laid back in the afterglow, Sam picked himself up and got out of the pen. “I’ve got some work to do on the truck, so you’re going to be a good little pig and stay here, right? I don’t have to tell you what would happen if I found you missing, right?”

Peter vaguely nodded his head, and stared up at the sky for a while, before wandering back over to the trough and finishing up the rest of the slop. The sun came over the top of the trailer and Peter wished he could find some shade. Instead, he rolled around in the mud to help cool him off and block some of the sunshine. He also drank a lot of the water in the barrel. It was really cold and refreshing, and he used some of it to wipe off his face a little, but became frustrated when he couldn’t use his fingers. Eventually he just sank back into the mud and lounged around, not really doing anything at all, and relaxed. Sure, he was at the mercy of a madman, but it really wasn’t all that bad. It was certainly better than his parent’s house. The morning wore on into afternoon and the euphoria began to wear off a little. He had already pissed and shit over in a corner of the pen, and was feeling bored, even preferring Sam’s taunting to nothing at all.

A little after noon or so, Sam came back around the trailer with two more buckets of slop. But instead of pouring them into the trough, he set them outside the pen and climbed in with Peter. “Ok Pig, time to see what you remember from lesson one,” He said as he raised his arm and brought it close to Peter’s face, “Come on, you know what to do.” When Peter tried to back away, Sam grabbed his collar and yanked him closer, and rubbed his face in his pit. “You were getting off on it earlier, you remember that. You liked licking my dirty pits. I’ve never felt a harder dick in my life than yours this morning.” Sam grabbed Peter’s dick and started stroking it gently, “You know you want to.”

The smell of sweat was overpowering, but what disgusted Peter most was the fact that a small part of him did want to lick out that pit, the same part that loved the feeling of Sam stroking his dick slowly. He tentatively stuck his tongue out and ran it through the hairs there, and even though it was humiliating, he couldn’t help but feel a little aroused. He tried to tell himself that it was just the situation, but he knew that was a lie. As he started licking more thoroughly, Sam kept stroking his dick and nibbled on his ear, whispering encouragement into his ear: “Yeah, that’s a good pig. You like that taste don’t you? You like your master’s sweaty pits. You put up a big fight but I know you want this. You may not think you do right now, but you’ll learn. I’ll teach you how to be a good little pig.”

After Peter had cleaned out both pits, Sam hopped back over the fence, picked up one of the pails and poured it into the trough, and let Peter start eating. He dove right in this time, and even though his breakfast was massive, he was still ravenous. As he ate, he felt the euphoria sweep over him, and felt his dick getting hard as he ate. Sam saw this and laughed, “Well I guess you really are starting to enjoy yourself, aren’t you Pig?” Sam climbed back into the pen and got behind Peter and started fingering his ass and stroking his dick as he ate. It wasn’t long before Peter started bucking back to meet Sam’s hand. Then he felt something cold hit his hole and he yelped, but Sam just pushed his head back into the trough. “Just a little suppository. Nothing serious. Gotta keep my pig healthy.”

Peter could feel the substance creep its way up his colon and disappear. He knew he should be more worried, but he felt too good to care all that much. When the first batch was almost gone and Peter was feeling happy and horny, Sam suddenly dragged him back and stood between him and the trough. “It’s time for lesson two Pig,” He said as he dropped his overalls, turned around and presented his ass to Peter, “Something else you’ll be cleaning out regularly.”

Peter balked at the pungent aroma and grime incrusted crack, but he ended up flat on his back. Sam took advantage of the situation and straddled Peter in the mud, his ass pushed up against his face. Peter tried to push him off, but he felt too weak, and the smell was making him gag. Sam pushed back relentlessly until Peter’s mouth was trapped deep in Sam’s crack, coughing and sputtering from the stench. “Come on piggy, I ain’t gonna let you up til its good and clean, and if you puke, you’re going to be eating it back, even if I have to force feed it to you.” Peter stuck out his tongue tentatively and started licking up the crack, appalled by the taste, but knowing he had no choice. He was rewarded by Sam rolling his nipples in his fingers and stroking his dick slowly. He descended back into the drug induced euphoria and tried to distance himself from the situation. All he had to do was clean it as fast as he could, and he could go back to eating. At least eating made him happy. Suddenly, he felt something warm splash against his chest. He felt his face burn with humilation as he realized Sam was pissing on him. “Yeah, now you’re getting really nasty, aren’t ya? You like the taste of my ass Pig, and now you’re covered in my piss. You’re all mine now, marked and everything.”

When he was satisfied with Peter’s cleaning, he scooted forward a little so Peter could get a few breaths of fresh air, but he didn’t get up and Peter started to struggle as much as he could. “Now hold your horses. I’ll let you up after you piss on yourself. I want to see just how dirty my little piggy can get. Peter struggled a little more, but Sam started pushing down on his lower abdominals and he could fell his bladder wanting to release. Come on Pig, you’re already covered with mine...what difference is a little more going to make?” Resigned, he relaxed, and after a few moments his piss splashed up his chest while Sam gently pulled on his nipples. When he was empty, Sam got up, turned around and laughed. “Now that is a hot piggy. Your master’s shit smeared all over your face, piss everywhere else.” He hopped back over the fence and poured the second bucket into the trough. Humiliated, Peter got back up and dug in, hoping to drown his anger in what little pleasure he could get. Suddenly he felt Sam ram his dick up his ass without warning, and he cursed at the top of his lungs, and Sam wrapped his hands around his neck. “What did I tell you about talking Pig? Pigs don’t talk. They might oink and squeal, but if I ever hear another word come out of there there’s going to be hell to pay.”

Relishing his moment of rebellion, Peter managed to whisper out, “Fuck you,” at which point Sam pulled out and pinned him to the ground, face up.

“I know you’re scared Pig, everyone’s scared at first, but this is your life now. I told you before, you can do this the easy way or the hard way. You’re getting awfully close to the hard way.”

“Get off me you fucker,” Peter said, spit at him and started to slur, “I’m not gonna be your—” but before he could finish, Sam’s fist smashed into his mouth, making him scream.

“I warned you fucker.” Sam said as he laid into Peter, “I warned you but you’re gonna make me hurt ya. I don’t want to do this, but it’s for your own good. If you don’t behave there must be discipline.”

Peter began screaming “stop” at the top of his lungs, tears streaming from his black eyes, the words mangled by his bloody mouth and broken nose. When Sam didn’t stop, he began grunting and squealing, and when that happened, Sam sat back and said, “Good you’re learning,” then wiped the tears away from Peter’s eyes. “It doesn’t have to be like this-you know that. But I’m not going to hesitate to use force if you resist...got it?”

Peter nodded, still crying silently. Sam got up, dragged Peter back over to the trough and said, now finish your lunch. Peter spit the teeth he had lost into the trough along with a mass of bloody drool, and then started eating, moaning in pain at the alcohol stinging his bloody face and mouth. When Sam started fucking him, he started crying even more, but didn’t resist, just lost himself in his slop. He didn’t even notice Sam jacking his hard dick until he realized he was approaching orgasm, and he shot his load into the mud beneath him with a loud grunt as Sam came up his ass.

With that, he pulled out, and looked Peter right in the eyes. “Are you going to behave now Pig?”

Peter nodded slowly, sniffling through his bleeding nose. Sam reached out and pushed it back in place, making Peter wince, but at least he could breathe through his nose again. Sam went into the trailer and came out again with a rag and a bottle of vodka, and sat down in front of Peter, dabbing at his nose with the alcohol and making him wash out his bloody mouth. “I’ll take care of you Pig no matter what. You’re my property, and I take care of my property. But if you start getting ideas, I will not hesitate to beat them out of you, got it?”

Peter nodded, and then began sobbing, and Sam pulled him into a hug, Peter clinging to him. Even though he hated everything that had happened, he couldn’t help but feel a little gratitude, and maybe even love for Sam. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, leaning on him, but he didn’t know what else to do. When he had stopped blubbering, Sam got up and went back into the trailer, leaving Peter in the pen alone.

He ran his tongue along his remaining teeth, and figured he had lost quite a few, most of them in the front, and those he hadn’t lost felt crooked or loose. Tired and scared, he laid down in the mud, and cried himself to sleep.

He woke to a foot nudging him in the side. After rolled over, he saw Sam standing over him in the evening light. “Come on Pig, time for dinner.” Peter struggled up, his whole face aching, and crawled over to the trough. But as he crawled, he felt a sudden need in his bowels, and before he could even think about clenching, he felt his shit start shooting out of his ass and onto the ground behind him. His face turned red in embarrassment while Sam laughed, and then dragged him back towards the trough, saying, “guess that laxative worked. Don’t worry, pretty soon that will be normal for you, shitting and pissing wherever ya happen to be, just like a regular Pig.” Sam hopped out of the pen, dumped one of the buckets in and said, “I have a special treat for you tonight.” He pulled out his cock after Peter had dug in, and started pissing on Peter’s head, making his recoil. Sam just kept pissing into the trough. “Time for lesson three pig. Come on, eat your dinner.” Peter crawled closer, and sniffed at it, unsure, and was totally surprised when Sam pushed his head down into the slop. He struggled, but his only choice was to eat or drown. The piss made it a little more bitter, but he couldn’t really taste it much, so soon he was eating without Sam’s encouragement. When he had finished that, he was in his usual high, and feeling really good.

“Time for the next part of the lesson.” Sam said, and squatted over the second bucket, and squeezed a massive pile of shit on top of the slop. Peter felt a lump of dread in the pit of his stomach that his high couldn’t fully alleviate. Sam then stuck his hand into the bucket and began mixing it all up. Then he took his hand and stuck it into the pen at Peter, who backed away towards the center of the pen. “Now, Pig, don’t make come in there and force it down your throat,” Sam said, waving his hand at Peter, " You know I will if I have to.” Peter didn’t want to, but he realized it might be better to go the easy way than the hard way. Reluctantly, he crawled back over to Sam and started licking the shitty slop off his fingers. The taste made him gag, but he knew he could either eat it, or puke and eat that too. When his hand was clean, Sam dumped the slop into the trough, and Peter started eating that too. It really didn’t taste that different from usual, and that made him wonder whether shit had been a regular ingredient already. He knew he should stop, fight, or at least something other than just take it, but he was too tired of resisting. It was so much easier to just go along with it, be a Pig. It couldn’t be that bad. He would have a caring master, all of his needs provided for, and no responsibilities. When Sam climbed in with him and started slowly jacking Peter’s cock slowly, he started thrusting into his fist, grunting as he kept eating the slop, soon enjoying the extra flavor the shit gave it.

When he was finished, Sam grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back over to where he had shit earlier. “And now for your final test for the day,” Sam said, “Eat your shit Pig. I know you want too, with the way you were chowing down on mine. So eat it.”

Peter balked at the prospect. It was one thing eating the slop, but eating his own shit out of the mud?.. He paused and realized that it really wasn’t any different. He looked up at Sam, begging him with his eyes to not make him do this final act of humiliation, but Sam just pointed towards the now cooling pile on the ground. Resigned to his new role, Peter bent down and picked up the smallest piece he could and choked it down. After he was sure it would stay down, he began eating the whole pile log by log, even more humiliated by the realization that his dick was now rock hard. He began crying realizing that he really was a pig, a shit and piss eating, lazy ass sex toy meant only for pleasing his fat, nasty owner, and that only made him even harder. When he finished, Sam pushed him onto his back, and thrust his tongue into Peter’s mouth, jacking Peter’s cock until he shot all over his chest. Sam got up, said good night, and went into the trailer, leaving Peter in the chill darkness. Peter flopped over in the mud, and realized he had to go piss. He thought about getting up and peeing in the corner, but instead he just pissed where he was in the mud. He was Pig now, and that was the way things were going to be from now on he thought as he fell into a fitful slumber.